The Strongest Weapon
by griffindork93
Summary: Katniss has never been great with words. Or love really. But that day on the train, on the way back to 12, she doesn't let Peeta walk away. She won't let the Capitol define her. If she chooses Peeta, it's because she wants to be with him and not because President Snow expects it of her.


**Every time I read a Hungers Games fanfiction in which Katniss realizes she loves Peeta, this scene pops in my head, demanding to be written. I want to write a story where they work for a relationship and where we really get to see Katniss exploring her emotions for the baker. Anything you recognize was taken from the book and belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

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The train begins moving and we're plunged into night until we clear the tunnel and I take my first free breath since the reaping. Effie is accompanying us back and Haymitch, too, of course. We eat an enormous dinner and settle into silence in front of the television to watch a replay of the interview. With the Capitol growing farther away every second, I begin to think of home. Of Prim and my mother. Of Gale. I excuse myself to change out of my dress and into a plain shirt and pants. As I slowly, thoroughly, wash the makeup from my face and put my hair into its braid, I begin transforming back into myself. Katniss Everdeen. A girl who lives in the Seam. Hunts in the woods. Trades in the Hob. I stare in the mirror as I try to remember who I am and who I am not. By the time I join the others, the pressure of Peeta's arm around my shoulders feels alien.

When the train makes a brief stop for fuel, we're allowed to go outside for some fresh air. There's no longer any need to guard us. Peeta and I walk down along the track, hand in hand, and I can't find anything to say now that we're alone. He stops to gather a bunch of wildflowers for me. When he presents them, I work hard to look pleased. Because he can't know that the pink-and-white flowers are the tops of wild onions and only remind me of the hours I've spent gathering them with Gale.

Gale. The idea of seeing Gale in a matter of hours makes my stomach churn. But why? I can't quite frame it in my mind. I never gave as much thought to Gale as I have now that the Games are over. Putting on an act of a pair of lovers head over heels for each has changed how I look at both Gale and Peeta.

Falling in love was never on my list of things to do. Surviving was more important. There was no time for a relationship when I had to guarantee there was enough food in the house to feed Prim. All of that changed since I was reaped. Now I have no choice but to continue to play the girl that had fallen hard for the boy that was hopelessly in love with her.

But what do I truly feel for Peeta? I had sworn off of love after watching how it destroyed my mother. Loving someone else only hurt you.

However, that wasn't the case with me and Peeta. His love saved me. Saved us. He got both of us out of the Games. The gamemakers would have never made that rule change if Peeta hadn't announced his love for all of Panem to see during his interview.

Thinking of Peeta's love in turn caused me to think of my feelings for Gale, which caused the churning in my stomach to intensify. During the train ride I had taken the time to think back on several interactions with Gale, and I had come to the stunning realization that my best friend must have had feelings for me.

It made it that much harder for me to choose between them. I knew Gale better. I was closer to him. We shared the same pain, pain that Peeta couldn't possibly understand. But Gale was family. I never looked at him as more than a brother. And Peeta. I owed Peeta my life and that of my mother's and sister's. I've been indebted to him since that day he burnt the bread.

How could I possibly go on with this act when he believed it was true? How could I manipulate his feelings so cruelly? So my family could live? Peeta deserved better than to love a girl that wouldn't love him back.

He must have seen my turmoil on my face. "What's wrong?" Peeta asks.

"Nothing," I answer. I don't have the words to say how I feel yet. We continue walking, past the end of the train, out where even I'm fairly sure there are no cameras hidden in the scrubby bushes along the track. Still no words come.

Haymitch startles me when he lays a hand on my back. Even now, in the middle of nowhere, he keeps his voice down. "Great job, you two. Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay." I watch him head back to the train, avoiding Peeta's eyes. I can't look at him until I know what I'm going to say. Who I'm going to choose.

"What's he mean?" Peeta asks me.

"It's the Capitol. They didn't like our stunt with the berries," I blurt out.

"What? What are you talking about?" he says.

"It seemed too rebellious. So, Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn't make it worse," I say.

"Coaching you? But not me," Peeta says.

"He knew you were smart enough to get it right," I say.

"I didn't know there was anything to get right," says Peeta. "So, what you're saying is, these last few days and then I guess . . . back in the arena . . . that was just some strategy you two worked out."

Peeta's accusation make me angry. A strategy Haymitch and I worked out! "Selling the star-crossed lovers was yours and Haymitch's idea. I wasn't even aware of that plan."

"But you went along with it. You knew what he wanted you to do, didn't you?" says Peeta. I bite my lip. "Katniss?" He drops my hand and I take a step, as if to catch my balance.

"It was all for the Games," Peeta says. "How you acted."

"Not all of it," I say, tightly holding onto my flowers.

"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says.

"I don't know," I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none's forthcoming.

"We'll, let me know when you work it out," he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable.

I watched him turn away from me, his shoulders stiff. He couldn't walk away from me. From us. Not now. All I could think about was how I couldn't survive without him. In the end, that was what my choice would have come down to. Gale or Peeta. Which one could I survive without?

Unbidden, words sprang from my mouth. "Wait, Peeta. Please."

He stopped, maybe from the surprise of me saying please. I was well known around District Twelve for many things, but manners were not one of them. Or maybe he hadn't expected me to call out for him. I know I hadn't intended to, but I couldn't stop myself.

"That's not what I meant to say. It's not like that. I mean . . ." I try to explain, stumbling helplessly over the words. Angrily, I throw the wildflowers Peeta gifted to me to the ground. "I'm just supposed to wield the bow. This is your job."

He turned around to look at me, baffled. "My job?" he repeated. "To what? Lie and rip my own heart out? To mislead you so I could live?"

"That's not what I meant at all, Peeta. Just give me a chance. You're much better with words than I am," I pleaded. Even to myself, I couldn't explain why the pain etched across his face when he turned back towards me felt like Clove was brandishing a knife to my neck once more.

Peeta's blue eyes soften. He crosses the short distance between in what seems like ages to me, and reaches for my left hand. Gently, he intertwines his fingers with mine and raises our joined hands. "Look at me. Just tell me how you feel."

Just like with our chariot entrance, Peeta is making the first move. This whole time, he's been taking the lead and I've been bumbling about trying to make it believable.

I swallow. My mouth feels as dry as it had in the first hours of the Games when I was desperately searching for water, but I owed him at least that. Peeta had saved my life and my family's lives twice now.

"I never wanted to fall in love," I start. "Loving my father destroy my mother. She couldn't take care of herself let alone Prim and I. If you hadn't given me that bread, we wouldn't have survived the winter." Peeta's eyes darkened with sorrow at my admittance. Thankfully, he didn't interrupt though. "Your confession. Haymitch's strategy. Caught me completely unaware. Haymitch said you had made me look desirable, that he could sell the star-crossed lovers."

I bite my lower lip. Peeta brushes the pad of his thumb across my knuckles, silently encouraging me. "When he said that, I thought it was your angle. An act on your part as well. That way the Capitol would keep us both alive until the very end and get their entertainment by pitting us against each other."

His other hand comez up to cover our still clasped hands. His grip tightensalmost painfully, but I say nothing. "You know I wouldn't do that to you, Katniss. I love you. I would never hurt you."

I shake my head. "I didn't learn that until I found you, almost dead, because of Cato. And when I learned it was real, I couldn't help but hate you for it."

He reels back like I had punched him. "Why?"

"Because," I burst out, "It was unfair of you to unexpectedly declare your love for me. Especially right before the Games. Did you really expect me to fall for you in the arena? When I had to fight to get out, and doing so would mean you would have to die? There is never more than one victor. Twenty-four of us go in and only one comes out. What if they hadn't made that rule change? What if they hadn't given in when I pulled out the berries?"

My voice cracks. I didn't need him to answer the question. We both knew the answer. Peeta had already asked me to kill him. Without that monumental change to the unwritten rules, any love that might have been would have been killed along with him. Peeta's soft hands cup my face and he rests his forehead against mine. "I'm sorry. You're right. It's not fair of me to expect you to return my feelings."

My eyes burn. Tears of frustration, of anger, of pain, of regret, finally start to fall. Here we stood, beside the train tracks in the middle of District Eight, and he was apologizing to me when I had just broken his heart.

"Please," I say, for the second time. "Let me continue."

"Alright."

"I don't love you, Peeta," I ignore the way he flinches, "but that's not to say that I can't." His smile is brilliant. "I do care for you, Peeta. I have feelings for you. I don't know what they are, but I want to find out. I want to give us a try. Is that okay? Will you give me a chance?"

I stare at him anxiously. His answer is automatic. "Always. I'm sorry for not giving you a chance the first time. I didn't mean to force you to love me. I'll take whatever you can give me, Katniss, so long as it's what you truly feel."

We walk hand in hand back to the train. The wildflowers that he had thoughtfully picked for me remain in the dirt. I leave behind all thoughts of Gale along with the flowers that reminded me of him. "Where does this leave us when we get back to District Twelve?" he asks.

"We play the lovers for the camera to keep Snow appeased. And our private life stays private. If we're going to give this a shot, it's going to have to be real. Just you and me. No cameras. You didn't want the Capitol to change you. I don't want them to define me. Anything that happens between us is because we want it."

"Okay," he says simply.

We board the train. Peeta apologizes to a critical Effie for the time it took us to get on. Haymitch studies us as we make a break for down the hall to our rooms. He has a bottle of alcohol in his hands, but his eyes are clear, wondering what has changed in the two tributes he mentored.

I am in no mood to clue him in. I drag Peeta down the train. We reach my door first and stand awkwardly outside it.

"I'll see you in the morning," he says.

I tighten my grip on his hand before he can let go and pull him towards me. Our lips meet and move against each other, and this time, it feels different. Because this is the first kiss we've shared that is just for us.

"There's no cameras here," I whisper against his mouth.

He smiles again. It suits him. Peeta's whole face lights up when he smiles and it's so congenial it makes you want to smile as well. "I love you. Good night."

For the first night since the Games have ended, I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

It does not stay there.


End file.
